


A Tasting

by Gimmemore



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Aliens, Away Mission Gone Wrong, Grumpy McCoy, Humor, Just a little bit of fun, M/M, Octopus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 14:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8252090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gimmemore/pseuds/Gimmemore
Summary: A disproportionate amount of incidents happen when James T Kirk is part of a landing party.  This is one of those times.Written as TOS, but I feel it works for AOS too, so I tagged for both.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a little timed writing contest. The theme was aliens, so of course I wrote Star Trek fanfic.
> 
> Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own.

There was no good reason why things devolved into chaos so frequently.  He’s sure Spock could recite a proper ratio (accurate to three decimal points) comparing Kirk’s inclusion in a landing party to an increase in incidents and injuries.  That ratio would probably be deemed ‘well above average.’  He could think of a few adages that explained this particular phenomenon:  Murphy’s Law and shit happens.

He often wondered if he had a proverbial flashing neon sign embedded in his very genetic code screaming ‘kick me.’  It would explain a lot.  However, let it never be said that James T. Kirk was a quitter, regardless of how often life threw ridiculous things his way.

On the surface, everything about this mission appeared to lend itself to a seemingly innocuous visit; a first contact that would be gentle, quiet and above all, not inflict serious injury on him or any members of his crew.

The data packet on the Dofleini culture had seemed thorough enough: Octopus-like humanoids that had evolved out of their oceanic habitat to become the dominant life on Kraken V.  Each retained full use of their eight appendages.  Four arms, two on each side and four legs – two each made up the front and back legs.  Jim thought their movement was reminiscent of old holovids of kangaroos “walking” on earth; a sort of shuffling and shifting of weight rather than a human-like walk.

They were curious creatures by nature, even slightly mischievous, much like the octopuses on Earth.  Intelligent and earnest, they also exhibited color changing flesh.  Starfleet research scientists postulated this was an outward display of emotions; varying hues could be attributed to certain feelings.  With larger heads than most known humanoids, their eyes – round and fathomless black – protruded from the skull.  The Dofleini spoke mostly by clicking their razor sharp beaks.  Interspersed were occasional hisses produced by a deep intake of breath and the squeezing of large bulbous muscles on either side of their necks.

Since Uhura had worked to integrate what was known of the language into the universal translator, she had been an obvious choice for the landing party.  Language barriers could lead to misunderstandings of epic proportions.  The rest of the team consisted of two security officers, Lt. Reese from the marine sciences division and Spock, his First Officer and science officer.

All in all, Jim felt like the meeting had gone rather smoothly and that the planet, its resources and inhabitants would be an excellent addition to the Federation.  With the negotiations complete and the treaty signed, all that remained was a formal farewell before they all beamed back to the Enterprise.  The end to another mission successfully accomplished.

In hindsight, he should have never lowered his guard, but with such little time left for something to go wrong, he had allowed himself to be lulled into a false sense of security.  Things went to hell quickly – for him, at least – and it gave him a whole new outlook on the old Terran phrase, ‘you are what you eat.’

As the crew of the Enterprise were exchanging goodbyes, the Dofleini emissary, Ko’t’t’lok, extended two arms to Jim while clicking his beak.  Jim waited with his best engaging smile as the universal translator worked.

“We give thanks for a pleasant gathering.  We wish prosperity to all.”

Jim inclined his head and politely replied, “We thank you for your hospitality.  We look forward to a cooperative and prosperous future for both our peoples.”

In that moment, two of Ko’t’t’lok’s four arms made contact with Jim’s wrists, wrapping the end of his tentacle-like arms around them.  Jim could feel the small suckers attach and ripple against his skin.  In the next instant, an ear-splitting shriek wracked the air and Kirk was forcefully propelled backwards.  He landed on his ass among the sand and rocks.  While attempting to get his bearings on what had suddenly gone wrong, he was abruptly knocked over by the impact of a viscous, oily-black substance that covered him from his neck to his knees.

A rapid series of clicks and hisses were coming from Ko’t’t’lok and the translator was having a hard time keeping up.  “What……you……murder……water……kin……explain!”  While the broken words came through, the emissary’s skin undulated in varying colors of teal, magenta and neon yellow.  It was a truly impressive display.

From his position on the ground, Jim looked up in askance at Uhura and Spock.  He had no idea what had gone wrong and hoped they had parceled out more from the translation than he had.  His security officers had flanked him and pulled their phasers, but with no further aggressive displays from Ko’t’t’lok, he motioned for them to lower their weapons.

Carefully avoiding the sticky substance Jim was drenched in, Spock gently touched the back of his right arm and helped him stand.  While doing so, Spock whispered in his ear.  “I believe, Captain, the violent reaction the emissary exhibited is due to the multiple marine life organisms contained in the meal you consumed last evening.  I believe it is safe to extrapolate that, as with Terran octopuses, the Dofleini possess chemotaxis; the ability to taste via touch.”

Jim inwardly groaned.  Last night he’d indulged and enjoyed a nice little Italian dinner: fried calamari with marinara and a lobster and crab linguini, one of his favorite pasta dishes.  Apparently, the “murdered water kin” the emissary spoke of.  He wanted to throw his hands up in defeat.  How was he supposed to know this would be an issue?  After a slight bow of his head in apology to Ko’t’t’lok, he turned to Spock, speaking in a low hiss meant only for superb Vulcan hearing.  “Well obviously I can’t change that now!”

Predictably, Spock’s eyebrow lifted in exasperated agreement.  “Indeed, Captain.  However, perhaps I can attempt to calm the Dofleini emissary.  As you are aware, Vulcans are vegetarians.  Therefore he should not find the taste of my skin unpleasant.”

“Whatever can get us out of this mess with the treaty still intact, Mister Spock.”  He gestured with a wave of his goo-covered arm, “Be my guest.”

Jim watched as Spock explained, extending his hands palms up in a non-aggressive posture. It took several minutes and although Ko’t’t’lok appeared wary at first, he finally lightly placed the tips of his arms on Spock’s wrists.  The Dofleini appeared to noticeably relax; his skin returned to the pale periwinkle blue it had been before Jim’s unfortunate _tasting_.  Jim would find out later from Spock’s mission report that, like Vulcans, the Dofleini are copper-blood based humanoids and without marine life “murder” as part of Spock’s flavor, Ko’t’t’lok felt infinitely more at ease.

Once he got the nod from Spock that the transgression had been soothed as well as it could be, Jim bowed once more in regret, and then ordered their beam up.

When they materialized on the transporter pad, Bones was waiting.  When not included on the mission himself, the good doctor had started miraculously appearing in the transporter room upon the landing party’s return.  Apparently, not only did he have an informant, but he was privy to the same incident statistics Spock had.

He saw Bones take in the gelatinous, greasy mess and so he wasn’t surprised when Bones ground out in his typical drawl, “What in the hell happened down there, Jim?  This was supposed to be an easy one!  Benign.  Harmless.  Can’t you go on one of these things without somethin’ going wrong?”

Jim huffed in frustration.  “In my defense, how was I supposed to know that they would be able to tell I had seafood for dinner by _tasting my skin_?”

Spock began, “If I may Captain, the chemotaxis was – “

“I read the damn report, Spock!  It was noted as a _very_ remote possibility.  But that doesn’t explain this.”  Kirk flicked his hands at his body in an all-encompassing sweep.  “It didn’t say, ‘don’t eat their Earth-related very distant cousins, because they’ll be able to taste it _through your skin_ twelve hours later, which has the potential to cause a diplomatic incident!’  If it had, I wouldn’t be in this situation.”

To his right, McCoy sighed, shaking his head and muttering, “I did not sign up for this.”  Exasperated, McCoy threw his arms up and loudly declared, “And dammit Jim, I’m a doctor, not a marine biologist.  Could be a thousand toxins seeping into your skin right now for all I know!  And let’s pray you’re not allergic to whatever that is.  Now get your ass down to sickbay before you drip that stuff everywhere.”  Bones then grumbled something that sounded like, “Just my luck, be in sickbay for days.”

“Bones, I’m fine.  Just need a nice, long shower and –“

Jim suddenly felt odd.  An instantaneous itchy flush swamped his system.  His hands and arms started tingling and his neck felt swollen.  Furrowing his brows in consternation, he turned to look back at Spock.  His world tilted and his vision dimmed.  Ah, hell.  He was going to pass out.  “Bones, I – “

Spock caught him before he hit the floor.

He ended up spending three days in sick bay with a very grumpy Bones who happily jabbed him with hypos every few hours complaining about the recklessness of starship captains, overworked and overstressed CMOs of aforementioned captains and the inherent dangers of alien bodily fluids.

Yep, Jim decided, he definitely had a ‘kick me’ sign somewhere.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little story. It has always been a favorite fun little piece.
> 
> Comments are always appreciated.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, nor am I profiting from this in any way. I am merely playing with the characters for enjoyment's sake.


End file.
